


A special relationship

by whatever_my_muse_is



Category: ChasmQuest (Podcast), Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Battle, Blood and Gore, Dark Magic, Dungeons & Dragons 3.5 Edition, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons References, Magic, Masochism, S&M, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24119491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatever_my_muse_is/pseuds/whatever_my_muse_is
Summary: The Rowdy Boys continue on their adventure, separating themselves from the warrior and the warlock.What will become of their fate?I'm really bad at writing summaries tbh haha
Relationships: Rowdy boys bromance





	A special relationship

**Author's Note:**

> This is an inspired work from the dnd podcast Chasmquest.  
> Please do not read if you haven't listened and want to listen, it contains major spoilers to the original story!  
> I have a messed up ship with Devon and Rory, but it's a weird one.
> 
> I also love tieflings so much so I had to write a story about Devon!!  
> Contains a lot of gory scenes and a ton of blood, also a light hint of an m/s dynamic.
> 
> Enjoy xD

Before Devon could speak up, Omar had already taken off on his horse after bidding his farewells to his newly acquainted friends, the Rowdy Boys, who were headed off back to the lands of Treland. Omar had told the Boys that he would stop the oncoming high elf warriors that were charging towards them and buy them more time so that they can safely escape, and Omar personally, just really wanted to kick some high elf ass, since they were working for the evil King Amrynn.

  
One problem hindered the current situation as Devon was still binded up tightly by the rope that one of the Rowdy Boys had tied him with, provoking adherence to his bodily movement. His whole body was secured by the ropes; including his arm and most importantly, the red wings he had that resembled those of a bat. As they both charged forward, his long black hair whipped his face from the momentum of the wind, wefts of his hair circling around the twisted ram horns protruding out of his skull.

  
"Hey, Omar! Release-" The mixture of the heavy galloping of the horses and the scourging wind made it impossible for Devon's cry to reach the ears of the warrior guiding the horse.

  
Before the tiefling could conclude his phrase, he heard Omar roar at the top of his lungs, as the sound of clashing metal was heard as he swung his sword from side to side, plunging the fine steel into the bodies of the guards as he galloped past them. Continuous squelches filled the air as Omar sliced through bodies like a knife into butter. Flesh and blood painted the battleground as the man's horse whinnied loudly, raising on it's hind legs to turn around and attempt to charge back into the crowd and attack. The raised horse sent Devon tumbling down onto the ground, landing with a loud _thud_ and an _"ouf!"_ as he rolled consecutively until he came to a stop. 

  
To his luck, Kohl-Uun, who was the deemed Bard of the Rowdy Boys, had casted invisibility on Devon, so he technically had the upper hand on these high elf guards. He tried to squeeze out of the bindings of rope, but failed at the attempt.

  
"Burn the ropes!" Omar called out, subtly giving the solution to Devon, as he swung his sword horizontally across the neck of the guard in front of him, flinging the head to fly onto the ground. A headless body, still seated on the back of a horse, had an eruption of blood spurting from the flimsy ligaments of the neck. The body then dropped to the ground, the horse galloping away into the distance.

  
Two of the guards looked at each other questioningly as Omar shouted a command, but no one else was in sight. Amidst all the chaos, Devon nearly forgot he was still invisible, the spell still working it's magic, as he noticed the two guards looking around. He wasn't certain on how much time he had left, but immediate action was required if he wanted to be victorious and still be living after this.

  
With the touch of his claw to the rope, it rapidly burst into flames. Luckily to the tiefling lineage, he had a resistance to fire and so the flames felt as soothing as bathing in warm water, gently caressing his skin. Black soot dusted across his body as the fire quickly dissipated into smoke.  
Unfortunately the smoke brought disadvantage as it gave away his location.

" _Charge_!" A guard yelled as he pointed a finger to the smokey silhouette of a tiefling. His horse began to dash at full speed, the high elf unsheathing his short sword, pointing the tip into the air aiming for the cloud of charcoaled smoke.

With quick reaction, Devon flapped his wings, the smoke clearing out from around him as he bent his knees and shot himself up into the air by thirty feet, far away from the guard.

The guard, absent of knowledge of the tieflings wings, pursued his charge forward, waiting for his sword to stab into something or someone, but confusion was the only response from this attempted attack. The guard pulled onto the horses reigns to turn it around, his head shooting from side to side, up and down, as he scanned the whole area for the invisible being, pondering on where he went off too. "He's invisible and using magic! Heed caution!" 

Omar persevered in his attacks to slash away at the guards, analyzing the area, muttering under his breath, hoping that the tiefling didn't cower away and escape. Omar's nerves of iron steel began to falter as confidence slipped away from him from he seeing the numbers of guards still remaining. Hope was slipping away from him as he felt himself soon to be knocking on death's door, no way was he going to get through all of these enemies by himself. He searched around him, trying to see for Devon, wishing from deep down inside of him that he was still here.

"Scorching ray!" 

Devon lifted his demonic black hand, pointing directly towards three guards, aiming straight for the chest where the heart was. Small balls of fire began to accumulate at the plam of his deformed hand as three rays of fire blasted consecutively from his hand aiming at their chests. The flames singed right through the guard's armor and flesh, causing them to scream in agony. Melted skin and cauterized tissue fell onto the grass as the three guards were instantly rendered incapacitated. They clutched their chests as they shrieked loudly in pain, making the horses sprint away in fear.

One of the high elves was a ranger and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the warlock conjuring his spell, which aided him to locate the target with his keen eye sight. In quick retaliation he reached for his bow and took an arrow from his quiver and elongated his arm, readying his shot towards the invisible figure in the sky. The guard put all of his focus on where the rays of fire appeared from and released the arrow, reaching for another from his quiver as soon as the one from his bow was discharged.

Devon, who was concentrated on his casting of a spell, was instantly distracted by a pang of pain that punctured a thin membrane of his wing. Every flap was immensely painful as a throbbing ache sent electricity to his pain receptors. Despite Devon still being invisible, an arrow was jutting out into the air, his emplacement now perceptible.

The ranger breathed in as his eyes carefully followed the floating arrow. He positioned his arms with his bow to unleash a second arrow, piercing another part of the tieflings wing.  
Devon let out a loud painful grunt as his wings forced him to retreat to the ground, as their capabilities of keeping him afloat was impossible because of the striking pang of every flap. He spiralled ungracefully in mid-air, as he failed to land on his feet, his body tipping over making him land onto all his knees and hand. He grit his teeth in response to the pain as he retracted his wings against him. Trickles of blood seeped from where the arrows were in his patagium. Revenge filled his eyes as he raised his demonic hand and pointed it towards the ranger, whispering " _Hellish Rebuke_ " in his demonic language; Infernal.

  
Black, ink-like flames exploded from the ground, tearing the soil apart as pieces of earth flung all around. The hellish fire, filled with the screaming of souls from the first platform of the Nine Hells below, enveloped itself around the elf ranger, incinerating the body to fine ash. The darkened flames redefined it's shape into what seemed like hands as it robbed the soul from the elf to drag it back down into the Nine Hells before extinguishing. A shrill scream echoed in the distance as once where the ranger and his horse stood, now was left a heap of jet black ashes and broken soil.

  
The invisibility spell was nearing it's end as the tiefling's body flashed repeatedly back into view. Devon's eyes quickly skimmed the battle area for the remainder of enemies; a total of five guards were left.

"Devon, _look out!_ " Omar shouted as he plummeted onto the ground from his horse, a guard keeling over on top of him. Before the guard could attack, Omar had reached for a dagger hidden inside of his sleeve and stabbed him several times in his chest, the scrunching of body and bones was heard with each thrust. After the guard was dead, Omar pulled the corpse off of him before jumping up to his feet. His breathing was hard as sweat was heavily leaking down his face. His heart was thumping against his rib cage, his whole body pumping with adrenaline. His trembling hands reached for his sword and shield, placing himself in a defensive stance as he took a short moment to catch his breath.

Devon was about to stand up, but before he was able to, his body flew forward as his face dug into the ground. He felt a pressure against his arm as it was turned around and pinned to his back. A guard had tackled him down and had locked him into submission. The guard kept pushing Devon's limb in a way that was making his ligament slowly tear apart.

The tiefling growled loudly, blackness pooling into the white of his eyes. His human eyes now truly resembling those of a demon as two black voids took place of what was left of being human. He was enraged. He wasn't going to have his arm ripped off again for a third time, especially not by someone who isn't Rory.

" _Mortem_." Devon hissed under his breath, his full black eyes locking with those of the guard that was pinning him down. The guard's eyes rolled up into the back of his head as he released his grip from Devon. A booming internal sploosh was heard as blood came pooling out of the guard's mouth. His heart had imploded from the inside, causing him to die instantly.

Patience was wearing thin as Devon let out a guttural growl. It was time for everybody to perish. He began chanting incomprehensible words from an unknown language under his breath, his long black greasy hair beginning to float from each side of him, his eyes flashing from white to black as he raised his demonic hand to the sky. His feet left the ground as his whole body began to hover. Devon's absent conscious gave the possibility that he was engaged in some sort of possession again as his power greatly surged.

The pure white fluff of the clouds grew darker by the second as huge rocks began to form in the sky. The rocks began to circle around, growing more aggressive by each turn as more rocks kept appearing in the now blackened sky.

One of the remaining guards, who was a skilled monk, noticed the warlock conjuring magic and he hurried over, fists bare, preparing to lunge at the tiefling. As he got closer he sprung forward, hurling his body and putting all of his force into his fist, aiming for the back of Devon's head.

Devon, without breaking the chant turned his arm in a way that is anatomically impossible and shot a beam of crackling energy from his plam right into the monk's face. The force of the blast exploded the guard's lower jaw, sending it to fly onto the ground, laces of skin hanging off the upper part of his mouth with his tongue cut off from the throat. The inside of his throat filled up quickly with a large pool of blood. The monk let out a gurgled scream, but soon came to a halt as the excessive blood loss led him to his demise.

Omar looked up to the darkened sky and then back to the tiefling, comprehending that a dangerous spell was about to rain down. He took cover behind a giant rock that lay in the area near him, scurrying away as far as he could from Devon. 

A swarm of meteor rocks showered down below, annihilating all living things in a 30 foot circle radius around Devon. Everything and everyone caught fire, different pitches of bloodcurdling screams were soon silenced as the remaining guards bodies withered to dust.

The charcoaled clouds in the sky cleared up as fast as they arrived, the sun's rays burning back down onto the ground below, piercing through blue skies. The fight came to an end, victory for both the warlock and the warrior, an seemingly unstoppable duo that brought the enemies to their end. Despite the triumph at hand, it was no time for any celebration as Devon was on the brink of fainting.

The tiefling fell to his knees, his eyes flashing back to his normal human-looking eyes, his body quivering from ongrowing weakness. He gasped loudly as he felt like he entered back into his own body, his sight swirling in motion. He tried to grasp hold of what seemed like an obscured reality, to try and understand what just happened. He took one look at his arm and the deathly claw that seemed to infect his body like an illness was shrinking back to his normal human hand size. His blurred vision made it difficult for him to see much, but he did see a vague shadowy figure running his way. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion as deep unsteady breaths came in and out of Devon. 

"Devon!"

The voice that called his name sounded muffled as his ears began to ring, but before he could see who it was, his vision went black, his body thudding to the ash covered ground.  
_________________________________________

A few days had passed as Devon was stuck in some kind of short coma from all the energy and magic his body had expelled. He finally woke up, his eyes fluttering open. He could feel his body weak as if he hadn't sleep for days. 

The first thing he notices is sharp rocks jutting from the ceiling above. The fresh smell of mountain filled his nostrils as he took a deep breath. He laid comfortably in a heap of blankets, although he could feel the hard stone floor beneath the layers of fur. He soon realizes that he is in a cavern, but from what he can recall, the last memory he has was he and Omar in the outskirts near the city of Falron. He also had a vague recollection of the battle. He felt as if an exceeding amount of magic was discharged from him, but had no clue of where all of this power came from. His intuition was telling him that Amrynn had something to do with it.

 _Omar_.

His name hit him once more like a train as he sat upwards, his head glancing from side to side, searching for Omar. "Omar!" Devon called out as he tried to get up, wincing from the pain of his not fully ripped arm and the minor wounds in his punctured wing.

A firm hand rested on his shoulder, forcing him to sit back down. "Yes, I am here." A calm recognizable voice spoke reassuringly as he moved to the side so that the tiefling can see him. "We fought well, but your body suffered a lot of trauma."

Devon's tense body soon eased up as he laid back down, still not quite used to the feeling of having one arm. He then had a recollection of his demonic arm taking back it's human form. He raised it in front of him, only to see his hand back to normal. He moved his fingers one by one, no longer being one big claw.

"It would seem that Amrynn's magic has completely worn off." Omar spoke as he began to clean Devon's wounds with the balms of the small healing plants that grew in the caverns.  
Happiness tingled within Devon, it was relieving to hear. This meant that he was no longer under the tyrant's control. He was free, but questions still remained.

"I know of many magics, but what happened to me at the fight is unknown to me. I remember a guard trying to rip my arm off and that was pretty much the last of my memory. After that everything is blank."

Omar pursed his lips in thought. "A possible answer would be that perhaps Amrynn's magic was still flowing through you, since the arm was modified onto you, correct?"  
Devon nodded.

"Now it looks normal, so with the high leveled magic that you casted, maybe it was the last burst of energy before his magic completely left you. Have you ever casted a meteor shower?" Omar then moved onto Devon's wing and began to carefully dab balm onto the punctured holes, causing Devon to wince at the touch.

The half-demon's eyes lit up, sparkling with glee, a wide smirk spread across his mouth, baring his sharp fangs. What?" He exclaimed. "I casted a _meteor shower_?" He couldn't help but to sit back up and look at Omar. Excitement was written all over his face, with his widened eyes and dorky smile. "That's a _ninth_ level spell! I'm trying learn it, but it would seem that I'm not powerful enough to cast it... yet." He sighed loudly, his eyelids closing. "Too bad I missed out on that, I didn't even get to see myself do some badass magic. Now I'm back to the books to try and learn it."

Omar chuckled, "It was truly a sight I can promise you that, but it was also frightening to see you in such a state. I was beginning to wonder if we had lost you to Amrynn once more."

  
Everytime that name was mentioned out loud, it sent shivers down Devon's spine. The atrocities that man would do to his victims without showing any sort of empathy. The King's hunger for power threw him into an inhumane chaotic reign. But, now if his arm went back to normal, does this mean the Rowdy Boys achieved their goal by destroying the King and the jewel scepter that was causing all this trouble?

"I can now see that you are an honourable person, not some blood lusting beast. Does this mean that you pledge allegiance to the Rowdy Boys?" Omar cleared his throat as he moved himself to sit comfortably beside Devon. "This fight brought you prestige, I can attest to the Boys, when they come back, that you are good and on our side, yes?" He raised his brows in question as he looked straight into the tieflings' eyes.

Before Devon replied, he felt a sort of sensation of yearning within his heart as an image of Rory popped up into his mind at the mentioning of the Rowdy Boys. He had a peculiar attraction to the halfing, even if Rory did end up ripping off both of his arms. The halfing had exhibited so much strength and expertise, showing that he knew exactly what he was doing and his pure intentions of fighting evil, even if Devon had to subdue the damage. He was longing to see him again, he craved to be... hurt by Rory again as it seemed to have rose some sort of masochist from deep within. Also a sort of strange appeal, maybe because Rory exerted an insane amount of dominance.

The life of a tiefling was a difficult one, many of their lives were special cases, because many of them end up not having their own lives. They pretty much ended up being servants for other people, either joining evil or good.For the longest time Devon could remember, he's always had a Master, someone to control his life and tell him what to do, desiring to do everything he could to please his Master, even if that meant getting controlled by a toxic one. Rory did not emit toxicity though, and Devon had some sort of odd craving for the halfing to become his new Master. He knew that Rory had a pure heart and wouldn't abuse him in the wrong ways like Amrynn did. 

The tiefling then shot a glance at Omar, a devious smirk illuminating his face, "Yes."

"Good, that's what I wanted to hear, you would make a good warlock to our numbers." Omar finished up cleaning the wounds before putting everything away. "Would you be alright for tomorrow, to head back to Falron?"

Devon squinted his eyes at the other man, muddled. "Didn't... we...just arrive from there?"

"Yes, but a hunter came by with an important message. Amrynn has been defeated and Queen Antiva is returning to Falron to put the place back in order." Omar sighed in relief as saying that felt like a great achievement.

The tiefling was thrown aback. "Amrynn...Dead?" His eyes grew wide as they filled with joy. Hearing that the King was dead brought back some life into him."That means the Rowdy Boys won!"

Omar nodded in agreement. "So, tomorrow we head back and celebrate. Get some rest."

Devon wasn't going to lie to himself that a chance of perhaps meeting Rory again brought him joy. His eccentric demeanor towards the halfing was quite confusing, but he knew that he just wanted someone to guide him towards a good path.

He lay back down and closed his eyes, letting himself get taken by the sweet hands of slumber.

Dawn broke the dark skies as Omar came to wake up the tiefling who was sleeping soundly in his blanket burrito. Devon woke up with a stretch, his eyelids feeling as if they were glued together. He wasn't much of a morning individual, but he knew that they had to leave. He groaned loudly as he pushed himself to stand up and help Omar stow away the remaining things.

  
They exited the Ancient Elk temple, a gush of cold wind hitting them as they left the calming warmth of the cavern. Everything was draped with a thin layer of white, the trees, the ground and the protruding rocks of the mountain. A light snowfall fell from the sky, pushed by the wind and melting onto their faces. It was chilly, but not freezing, definitely cold enough that made Devon more wakeful.

  
After a couple of hours they finally made it to the mountains that disguised the secret city of Falron. An unexpected change of seasons from Winter to Spring was made as they traversed the invisible magical barrier. The smell of flowers wafted in the air, the white blanketed landscape quickly changing into a more livelier greenery. Trees and flowers bloomed as they moved deeper into the city. Life was booming as citizens filled the streets with chit chat and laughter, incomparable to the lonesome, cold adventure outside of the barrier.  
The two men uncovered clothing that was unnecessary now that the heat was engulfing them. As they continued to walk forward a voice shouted, "Hey, Omar!"

Omar turned around only to see a familiar face, it was Bjornson. Bjornson chuckled, delighted and barely believing Omar to be still alive. 

Omar responded by opening up his arms for an embrace, "Bjornson, good to see you!"They hugged for a moment before letting go, Bjornson wearing a pleased smile. "Always such a warrior you are, Omar. I have much to tell you." He put a hand around the other man's shoulders, shooting a glance back over to Devon, a feeling of remorse as he soon recognized who it was. "You... You are the man from the table, one of who suffered the grotesque experiments of Amrynn... Devon, was it?"

The tiefling shifted nervously as he looked away, unable to shake away the traumatic image of what Amrynn did to him in there, to all of them. After his transformation was complete, he couldn't recall much afterwards as the King possessed him with a cursed amulet that was controlled by the magical scepter. Everything was pretty much a black void until the Rowdy Boys brought him back from the claws of possession. Bjornson's face was unknown to him, but he nodded in response, knowing that he meant no harm.

"Yes, it is. I..." Devon turned his head, his eyes dropping emptily to the ground. His smile breaking as he fought back some tears.

Bjornson walked over to the tiefling and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You were once consumed by evil, but I can feel within you that you are good at heart. You can relax now, Amyrnn is dead. The Rowdy Boys are back, they were victorious in overthrowing him and destroying the scepter."

Devon immediately perked up when he was told that the Boys had returned, his lips twitching back into a smile. He simply had to go ask how it happened and to see Rory. "Where might I find them?"

Bjornson retracted his hand and pointed towards the lower district, "They are at the tavern. The Swan's Tankard." He turned back, facing Omar. "We need to go see Queen Antiva. We have much to discuss as new problems arise. We shall join you at the tavern later on."

Omar nodded and waved back to Devon as the two men headed in opposite ways.

Devon headed towards said tavern, questionable looks from others as he walked by. Even if he wasn't on the side of evil no longer, some people must acknowledge him from being the right hand man of the recently deceased King. The fact that he was also a tiefling didn't help his cause, as they were already a race of judgemental nature. Nonetheless, he didn't care. All he wanted to do was see Rory and appease this strange longing he had in his heart.

He walked by buildings, looking at the signs one by one until he came by the Swan's Tankard. He pushed the wooden door, the smell of delicious food wafting in his nose, the murmur and laughter of drunken folks growing louder as he stepped inside. He perked up his head and scanned the tavern looking for the notorious Rowdy Boys. 

Back in a corner at a long table, there they sat alongside Duke Erywnn, Jacquard, Commander Leon and Queen Reina. Devon's eyes gazed a bit at the 3 foot 3 halfing with long luscious brown locks braided onto the side. The eagle tattoo on his chest was as magnificent as ever as he wore an opened red vest with white fur at the collar. His smooth tanned skin brought out his extremely muscular mass, as the shadowy contour dipped into his biceps, pecs and abs.

Devon ran forward as he spotted Rory, "Master Rory!" He couldn't help but to shout excitedly. 

The Rowdy Boys turned their heads to all look at Devon, who was now in front of them, smiling like an idiot. 

"Uh... What did he say?" Thelneous whispered to Rory as he was eating some fries. His lighter brown shorter hair, curled against his cheeks as he wore a beige cloak held together by a medal with the inscription of the Theslan prayer, it being a double infinity sign. Under he wore a darker shade of brown as a tunic. A light stubble on his cheeks and chin contrasted with his pale skin.

"I think he said Master Rory." Kohl-Uun was licking his fingers from the delectable chicken breast he was eating. The first thing noticed on this man was his bright orange long beard, the color matching with his hair. He was clearly a half-dwarf seeing as the features of his face was more rounded, like a dwarf, but he was taller like a human. He wore a sash that matched with his green kilt.

Devon's cheeks blossomed into a heavy shade of red, smiling awkwardly. "Uh no, I said, faster Rory. Because... I...uh... was about to get you all some drinks! You seem to be almost out." He chuckled nervously as he dashed away towards the bar, gulping down a big lump of regret in his throat.

Rory looked into his tankard, raised a brow as he showed the two beside him that the cup was a little bit more than half full.

  
"I'm pretty sure he said Master Rory." Kohl-Uun repeated once more as he continued to eat his dish.

  
"I don't trust that guy, especially that he's getting us drinks." said Eyas, the white haired half-elf, who was also part of the Rowdy Boys. He had a more slender looking body, with a faint pinkish burnt scare over his eyes. He had something special about his eyes, the iris' were black along with his pupil. His long white sleek hair stopped right at his shoulders, as pointy ears poked out from the sides.

  
"Well, Rory, sounds like you got a fan boy of some sort. If he messes with us, just rip off his arm again." Thelenous said as he shrugged while taking a sip of his wine, wearing a playful grin.

  
"Hey, that guy only has one arm, how is he going to-" Rory paused for a moment, counting to himself, everyone that was sitting at the table, "get drinks for the eight of us?"

As soon as he said that, the waiter brought all the drinks on a wooden platter, setting them down in front of each person. 

  
Devon grabbed an empty chair to pull out from the table to sit, but was shortly stopped by Eyas getting up putting a hand out to block him, "I don't think so."

  
Everyone at the table had turned their attention towards the tiefling, their gazes burning onto him with great intent. The halfing stood up as he walked to Devon shoving him from behind, forcing him to go towards a private room at the back of the tavern.

  
Devon showed no signs of retaliation. Thelneous and Eyas followed closely behind as the wooden doors shut closed behind them.

  
Rory shoved Devon onto a chair, shooting a glance towards Thelneous. "Can you do that magic thingy?" 

  
Thelneous nodded as he raised a hand and murmured some Theslan words under his breath as magical rope appeared at the extremities of the chair, the softly glowing ropes twisting around the wrists and the ankles of the tiefling, securing him tightly. Another rope laced around his chest, firmly pressing against his wings so that there was no chance of escape or any surprise attacks. Devon's breath hitched as the magical cord continued to rope around his throat, binding firmly against his adam's apple.

  
"if you try anything funny, one word and the cord will choke you out." Thelneous threatened as he kept his hand up in the air to keep the concentration of the magic going.

  
Eyas stepped in front, arms crossed, his dark ominous eyes staring right into the deep red eyes of the tiefling, almost as if the intent gaze was piercing his soul. Trust was thin between them, the half-elf had his doubts about Devon because of their last encounter. He narrowed his eyes, his face expressionless.

  
"What happened since the last time we saw each other? Where is Omar? I swear..." The long white haired half-elf grabbed Devon's greasy black hair to pull back his head. "I swear, if you killed him, you will die by my own hands."

  
Devon shook his head, panic rising as his body trembled. "O-O-Omar is alive, I swear!" He stuttered as he began to fear the menacing vibe that Eyas portrayed. A deep regret took over as he should have came by to the tavern with Omar to prove that he did not escape or try to murder him. 

  
"Then where is he?" Rory demanded as he stepped harshly on Devon's foot with his boot. The tiefling cried out in pain, but he also secretly enjoyed it and would ask for more if the situation wasn't boiling right now.

  
"He-he went with some guy named Bjornson!" Devon's words slipped out, his bottom lip trembling. He didn't mind the hurt, but he certainly didn't want to die, right here and right now, especially now that he wants to atone of the wrong paths that he choose in his life.

  
The rope around his neck loosened a little. "I believe him." Thelneous examined Devon's facial expression carefully, looking for any small hints of deception.  
Eyas let out a sigh, not exactly sure what to think of Devon. "I'm not sure that I do." He loosened his grip from the black weft and took a step back, critically analyzing the whole situation, trying to wrap his head around it.

  
Thelneous turned his head to Eyas, "How would he have known Bjornson? From the last time we know this guy had no idea what he was doing under Amrynn's grasp. And now that fucker is dead, Devon is no longer a threat to us." Thelneous pointed towards the tiefling's arm. "Even his arm seems to look normal, remember how last time it had a claw? It must have come back to normal after we destroyed the magical scepter and killed Amrynn."

  
Eyas' rested his index and thumb on his chin, nodding slightly, partially agreeing with what the Cleric said. "Okay, but this does not explain as to why he came to us. He's definitely not becoming one of the Rowdy Boys."

  
"Oh no, no." Devon's voice went from frantic to a more calmer tone after knowing that they would spare him. "I don't want to become a Rowdy Boy, I want Rory to become my new Master."

All of the three Rowdy Boys turned towards him, completely flabbergasted. 

  
"Uh, come again?" Rory's mouth dropped open, not fully understanding what the hell that meant.

  
"My god Rory, I think he enjoyed having his arms popped off like a cork by you." Eyas chuckled, amusement breaking his stern composure for a second.

  
Devon turned his head to look towards Rory, smiling awkwardly. He felt all of their eyes burning into him, he could feel the judgements. "Y-yes well, all of my life I had a Master to guide me in my life. I don't quite remember my first Master, but I was young and was guided by him. My second Master was that disgusting elvenking, Amrynn. He made quite the first impression by telling me that I would be the most well fed, well cared for and all of that, until he just..." He paused, a tear forming at the corner of his eye, as he pressed his lips together.   
"Until he just used me! That's not the sort of abuse that I would have liked. Using my body as an experiment, making me kill people when all I want to do is live peacefully and fight for the right reasons. As a tiefling you must know how difficult it is for me to live without getting perceived as a villain by literally everybody." Devon's eyes dropped down to his lap as he bit his lower lip. "I just want a Master to help me get by this difficult life, and Rory seems to have honor and he is so graceful in battle, doing whatever his mind tells him to do without thinking twice. He just simply kicks ass." 

  
Thelneous paced back and forth, his hand up to his chin as he is lost in thought. "Okay, cool story and all, but what do you think about this Rory?"

  
"Uh, well listen, this guy sounds like he's coming onto me or somethin'. My heart belong to Stone Cold, but I won't lie that you're an okay lookin' dude. What do I get out of this? What do I need to do?" Rory contemplated about the idea of being a 'Master', but wasn't quite sure what sort of thing he was about to embark on.

  
Eyas laughed very loudly, hunching over with both hands on each knee, the most emotion that he showed all night. "This...This is strange." He collected himself as he put a hand up to his mouth to cover the amusing smile he had that was hard to resist.

  
"You literally just tell me what you want me to do. If you want some water, I'll get it for you. You want me to fetch a potion, I'll go out to scavenge for one. You need my help to take down a beast? Just command me and I'll do it. You want me to follow, I'll follow, you want me to leave you alone, I will." Devon explained, a hint of enthusiasm in his voice, a smile tugging at each corner of his lips. "I'm a very loyal servant. I will do anything for you. In my heart I know that you'll truly be a wonderful good hearted guide for me."

  
"Hmm..." Thelenous stopped pacing and stood in front of him. "So, does this mean you would pledge allegiance to the Rowdy Boys? Seems like this Devon character could become of use to us." He shot a glance over to Rory who was clearly baffled.

  
"Okay, what about if I want to beat you up and try out my new weapons or a new sick move or somethin'? Or just level up my skill. You kinda look like someone who makes me want to rough 'em up a little." Rory questioned, raising a brow as he shrugged at Thelneous.

  
"Y-yes, please! That's exactly what I want!" Devon shouted excitedly on impulse, his heart beginning to beat faster with thrill. "Uh..." He chuckled nervously, realizing that mentioning that may have been an accident.

  
Thelneous laughed, closing his fist which made all the magical ropes vanish. "You are one weird guy, Devon." He snorted and looked at Rory, "He seems to enjoy masochism."  
"Maso-kiss-him? Why? I don't want to mass kiss him, whatever that means." Rory shook his head.

  
"Oh my God, Rory. Masochism is someone who really enjoys being physically hurt. Like I said from before, I think he secretly enjoyed the way you teared off his arms." Eyas said as he straightened up, stifling a laugh. 

  
Thelneous lifted up his sliced arm where he wore the hammer, and breathed out loudly, astonished. "Well, uh, my experience with getting my arm sliced off wasn't so great. I don't know, maybe Rory gives a better arm-ripping service." He teased lightly.

  
"So, does this mean you want to get your arm ripped off a..." Rory lifted up his fingers to count, "third time?"

  
Devon sat up, more comfortably now that the bindings around him were off. "Maybe not getting my arm ripped off since I need one to help you in battle to cast my spells, but what you can do is punch me, slice me, burn me, choke me, even use your hammer. I'll be your live training dummy." He peered over to Thelneous, "And he knows how to cast blessed magic, yes?"  
"Uh-huh." The Cleric affirmed.

  
"And then use your magic to cure me and do it again, what do you say?"

  
Rory put out his hand to Devon, smirking. He was always up for some brawling, whatever and whenever it was. It sounded like Devon wasn't going to fight back and was accepting any sort of physical harm. This sounded like it could be good for Rory's training, especially when he knows he doesn't need to hold back. "That's a deal, ya weirdo. I'll be your... Master." He pushed out the last word with a sort of unwillingness, it still sounded very bizarre, rolling off of his tongue.

  
Devon reached out for Rory's hand and firmly grasped it, both shaking on it.

  
Both Thelneous and Eyas glanced at each other, wearing quizzical expressions. They both shrugged, amused at the situation at hand. 

  
Rory released Devon's hand, a smile forming at his lips as a faint red glow began to enswathe his body. Blood began pumping quickly inside his veins, a rush of adrenaline whooshing over him as he began to feel a surge of rage. The faint red glow around the halfing's body started to pulsate at a greater pace, a vague whirring sound filling the room. His walnut iris' began to flicker brown to black as the veins on his neck and forehead swelled. His silky chocolate brown tresses of a braid beginning to levitate into the air. He grit his teeth as he wore an inspiring determined smile, baring all of his teeth as he tuned all of his focus onto Devon. He was now in rage, where his strength was almost tripled, and every punch was packed with immense force.

  
He could feel his emotions begin to boil with anger, his vision going from clear to red, his mind going absent and interchanging with fury. Flashing images of the past battles with Devon began to surge his mind, going back to the time in the forest where the Rowdy Boys fought the Feckless Four, where Devon had attacked them, then an image flashing towards the Winter Ball where the tiefling would try to injure his friends, all of the mistrust expelling from this half-demon.

  
With a thunderous scream, Rory clenched his fist as hard as he could so that it imitated the density of a rock, retracted his right arm back while he clutched tightly onto the greasy black locks of the tiefling to obtain the most impeccable aim.

  
Devon was caught by surprise as he felt the fingers of the hafling interlocking with his tangled hair, thrusting him forward. His eyes grew wide as he saw the impending fate nearing his way, a rock-hard pulsing red glowing fist that was going to knock the shit out of him.

  
In the background you can hear the astounded gasp of a Cleric, "Holy shit," and the silent encouragement from the raised fist of a fighter as Eyas watched, his eyes widened, burning with anticipation, contrasting with his impassive facial expression, his upper lip twitching a little as it held back a smile.

  
Rory launched his fist, with all of his might, and aimed straight for Devon's nose. The collision made the bone of the tiefling's nose firmly crunch as blood gushed out from both of his nostrils, splattering all over his torso and Rory's face. The blood enhanced the deranged appearance that the halfing bore. Rory hastily withdrew his arm to throw another vicious punch at the tiefling's chin, clocking his bottom lip as the thin skin teared open, blood trickling out onto Rory's fist.

  
Devon helplessly sat there absorbing all of the hits as his body screamed out in anguish, a throbbing pain accumulating at his nose and lip. His reaction was to flinch and move away, but the grasp of the halfing was too strong to impede. Despite the crush of the solid fist crashing against his bone structure, Devon sickeningly relished the duplicative punches, as he roared up a shrill cackling as his blood stained his pinkish tongue, the taste of iron coating his taste buds. 

  
Rory's preoccupation of anger turned into vexation as he threw a punch into the chest of Devon, causing the half-demon's cackle to gurgle as blood engorged his throat. He was thrown backwards into the chair by the powerful momentum, his head thrown upwards as he spat out more of his blood into the air, erupting like the flaming magma of a volcano, before the chair tipped over sending Devon's body splaying onto the ground, the chair cracking as several pieces of wood was sent flying all over the wooden planks of the floor. A piece of the chair leg hit a nearby barrel with a loud thud.

  
Rory, clutching both of his fists, hauled himself into the air by springing his legs and landing both feet onto Devon's torso, causing more blood to spew from the tiefling's mouth. He then crouched down to place both of his legs on either side of Devon's chest, his knees protruding sharply into his arm pits. He pressed his grip against the tiefling's throat, tightening as to cut off the air circulation, making him choke on his blood. 

  
Even the impendence of air, Devon's lip still spasmed a frail perverse smile as his almost lifeless eyes stared right into of those choking him. He laid his darkened hand on Rory's grasp, pushing on it, urging him to choke him harder. 

  
Rory followed his cue, leaning forward as if to put more force around his throat, making sure he got every bit of pain that went with it. Devon's eyes soon rolled back, as he tried to gasp for air, his grip weakening against the halfling's hand. 

  
A hand gently placed itself on the halfing's shoulder as Thelneous' voice echoed from afar, "Hey, Rory, come back. There's uh... people and he needs healing." 

  
Rory's senses rushed back as the soothing voice of the Cleric calmed him, his view coming back to normal, the red aura draping his body dimming, slowly vanishing into nothing. The flickering in his eyes halted, his iris' coming back to his normal beady brown ones. He was breathing heavily from all the accelerated adrenaline that was pumped into him. He could see Devon in front of him, face battered to a pulp as his eyes were rolled back, barely conscious.

  
Beads of sweat rolled down Rory's forehead as he looked back only to see the tavern's workers watching in fear, questioning themselves of the scene before them.  
Thelneous knelt down and hovered a hand over the tiefling as he muttered under his breath, "Cure wounds." Devon's nose cracked back into place, making the tiefling's body twitch in pain, his face covered by a hazy oscillation of white light. His busted lip woven back together and all of the bleeding came to a stop as Devon gasped for air, his conscious coming back into full force. 

  
His eyelids flung open as he raised his arm to his chest, an illuminated smile on his lips as he was enchanted by the halfing's power, drowning in his thrill as he was lavished with his new Masters' dominant capabilities. It also amazed him how a simple blessing of the Cleric can make all the pain fade away, bringing him back up to obtain more future beatings, perfect for his kooky masochistic needs.

  
Eyas turned to the small crowd pooling in the doorway, raising a hand as his calm voice lightened the mood of the room or tried to, "They had an argument and Devon here tried to attack us after we questioned him on some needed information, but, I think he learned his lesson now, right Devon?"

  
Devon scrambled away from under Rory immediately standing up and bowing his head apologetically, "Yes, yes! I am very sorry for the chair, I'll-" he knelt down to pick up the broken pieces to put them in a pile together, "I'll pay for the chair!" Devon's voice increased a pitch higher as he expelled ecstasy while rummaging around him, collecting more pieces of the wooden shards laying across the room.

  
What seemed like the tavern owner, moved forward, locking his gaze onto Eyas, "Yes, of course... We just heard a huge bang and we came over to find out what that sound was, we didn't want the clientele to be disturbed by such a distraction." His voice wavering as he took a big gulp in hopes of not disturbing anymore of what was already disturbed, he didn't want to get pummeled like poor Devon over here.

  
Thelneous chuckled nervously as he laid a reassuring hand on the gentlemen's shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. "I can assure you, this won't happen again. We apologize for the ruckus, we just came here in celebration of our victory against the King." The Cleric's words soothed the man like a gentle lullaby, words caressing the anxious thoughts, putting them to rest.   
The man sighed in relief and nodded, not doubting the words of the Bishop of Treland. He gave a quick peek over to Devon who was grinning happily, bearing his vampire-like fangs. "Alright, another round for the Rowdy Boys?" He shouted eagerly as he whizzed his finger in the air, a silent demand to his workers to start prepping up another round of the home ale. The workers scurried to their posts and went right back into work, clearing the room along with the tavern owner.

  
"Alright, well, Rory..." Theleneous whirled around his heels to face his halfing friend, "Let's maybe not demonstrate such prowess in a small establishment next time." His spoke with a firm tone as he knelt down to help Devon pick up the wooden pieces. He wasn't sure if he should feel bad or good, it was a very peculiar situation, but if Devon admired the drubbing to the point of overlooking Rory as a Master, then he guessed it should be alright.

  
Eyas on the otherhand still felt sort of dodgy about the tiefling, but seeing how he didn't lift a finger to fight back, he discerns that this could be a first step towards building the sensitive bridge of trust. The Rowdy Boys could always use an extra hand for any sort of needed help as there was always enemies to retaliate against the Verakin people, or at least there was always some monsters running about that needed to be taken care of and with the sharp insight of the half-elf, he could recognize when one was succumbing to deception and Devon seemed to be convincing in his words of truthness.

  
Rory stood up on his feet, "Listen, this is why your my brains, buddy." He brushed off the dust off of his pants as he vivaciously agreed with the Cleric. He turned for the door and waved his hands for the rest of his compatriots to follow behind him to head back to the dining part of the tavern. "Come on, guys."

  
The small group took a seat back at their table and continued to eat and drink, conversing with the tiefling, getting to know him and what happened on his journey back here with Omar. The tavern was animated with life as people's laughter and chatter once more filled up the place.

  
Nightfall overtook the skies as the soft glow of the moon draped over the more quiet tavern. The calls of wolves pierced the calm evening as the creatures of the night began their nightly routine. Some of the people were outside of the tavern, happily engaged in drunken conversations as a few lightweights were passed out on the bars and tables downstairs inside. There was Kohl-Unn singing now, his enchanting deep voice singing a tale of the fallen King Amyrnn and his defeat in a comical manner. People sang along and clanked their tankards of beer together in rhythm with his bag pipes.

  
Rory was up in his room washing himself off as the energy that was drained from him wore him out. Whenever he went into rage it would be detrimental to his health in a way that his body would deplete his energy much faster than normal. A helpful skill as a barbarian indeed, but it was a role that demanded excessive energy and so he needed to rest up whenever he could even if he desired to party some more. 

  
He was preparing for bed now as he had on some comfortable loose clothes. He was about to hop into his bed as he heard someone coming in from the door, turning to see who it was only to see Devon. 

  
Devon made his way to Rory, his eyes dropping down to the floor as his finger twirled a strand of his hair. "May I sleep on the bed with you? There are no more rooms available..." He managed to push out, his whole body froze with unease as timid overrode his confidence from before.

  
Rory had unbraided his long silky brown hair, long strands draping around his shoulders and neck. "Well, ya know, I kinda like sleeping on my own, if ya get me?" Rory didn't seemed bothered by the question at all which made Devon loosen up his tense body. "I guess you can sleep on the floor next to me." He pointed out to the soft thick rug that laid on the floor, it seemed pleasant enough.

  
Devon, subsequently without question, laid down onto the floor, curling up on the rug, his face towards Rory's bed. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind, but it was alleviating enough compared to sleeping alone outside. His wings expanded to cocoon around of his body as if to act as a blanket. He closed his eyes and began to snore softly as his own vitality was exhausted from the occuring event from before.

  
Rory was simply too drained to care about at this point about anything, he was just pining for a good night's rest. His procrastination of the situation led him to deal with it tomorrow as he hopped onto his bed to throw the covers atop him. He flipped over and got comfortable, closing his eyes as he waited for the hands of slumber to pull him down into the relaxed void of dreams.

  
A few minutes passed by as delicate thoughts submerged into his conscious about at least permitting the tiefling some sort of decency on giving him a place of comfort on the bed, he did allow himself to take a huge beating after all and did not even show a sign of feebleness.

  
"Hey, Devon." Rory called out in a hush, turning over again to slide towards the edge of the bed so that the tiefling was in his sight. "Psst." 

  
Devon was a light sleeper so he woke up easily at the sound of Rory's voice. A small buzz of contentment vibrated within him as his eyes hazily blinked open, he could see the halfing looking down at him from the edge of the bed. "Yes, Master?"

  
The halfing pointed towards the end of the bed, being a 3 foot 3 halfing he didn't use up much of the space. "Uh, listen, you can sleep there, alright?" 

  
Without delay, Devon unfolded his wings and gave a small flap which caused him to float gracefully onto the end of the bed where he curled up like a cat, the crook of his neck nestling against the halfing's foot. He displayed some traits like those of an animal companion, in which he wanted to show to Rory that he could be treated as such, as he began to purr lowly as to show a sign of the admiration of the hospitality even if it was a simple thing as an invitation to the end of the bed.

  
Rory shifted as he felt a slight unease, but he silently agreed to himself that this was possibly something he could get used too. It was nice having some sort of company, although it was definitely a special kind of relationship, one that is unique and was unseen. 

  
"You can just call my Rory, I uh... I think I'd, uh, prefer that. Or at least Master Rory, that sounds pretty cool." The halfing poked the tiefling's head with his big toe to grasp his attention.

  
Devon let out a drowsy, "Uh-huh," as he was already diving into the depths of slumber, Rory soon following as he closed his eyes.

  



End file.
